


Some Nights Not for Sleeping

by xtricks



Category: X-Men (Comicverse), X-Men (Movieverse)
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-06-02
Updated: 2014-06-02
Packaged: 2018-02-03 02:39:36
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,644
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1728044
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/xtricks/pseuds/xtricks
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Bad dreams make for restless nights and impulsive choices.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Some Nights Not for Sleeping

**Author's Note:**

> This is a very old fic of mine, from 2004 and rescued from a defunct site. I've cleaned up spelling and formatting but left all the rest of my past idiosyncrasies intact. Even the dialect ....

Cold, crushing darkness and tumbling disorientation. Remy couldn't breathe. He clamped his teeth shut, desperate for air but couldn't breathe. Mustn't breathe. Thrashing in the heavy, cold grip of memory.

_green light and pain flickered through him_

Etienne's cold hand slipped from his, face white, eyes wide in a silver halo of bubbles. Like an angel he floated away from Remy, ragged hair drifting like sea-wrack around his face. Beautiful. He couldn't breathe, couldn't reach -

_pain and blood and screaming_

Remy lurched upright in bed, bound in sweaty sheets, strangling his own screams. He kicked wildly free of the sheets, gasping for air and shaking with terror. It took a moment for the room to register. The mansion, the school - Xavier's.

Perched naked on the edge of his bed, Remy dragged his discarded pants closer with his toes and dug out a battered book of matches and his cigarette papers. Fingers shaking so hard it was difficult to roll the smoke, Remy finally managed to put some tobacco and weed together, light it and get it to his mouth. The scratchy rasp of smoke was soothing and familiar but his skin was still crawling with fear as he wiped the sweat from his face with a shaking hand.

He was used to his own nightmares, they were like IOUs; he couldn't get rid of them. Where the hell the green and pain and - and knives - came from he had no idea. After a few minutes the feeling of being trapped in the strange room he'd been offered grew too strong. Remy pulled on his pants and a ragged sweater -he was cold from the dream drowning – and slipped out his door.

The hallway was dark and quiet as Remy padded barefoot and silent down the winding stairs, wood and marble icy under his feet. Shivering, he went in search of something to drink.

***********  
Sitting on the edge of his bed, head in hands among the shredded wreck of sheets and pillows, Logan heard a faint choked cry that jerked him to his feet. Head tiled to one side, he listened. Nothing but silence.

Too uneasy to sleep, he dragged on some pants and headed out.

He hesitated in the hallway, smelling pungent herbal smoke and fear sweat. LeBeau - the Cajun newcomer. Sniffing and suspicious, he trailed the scent downstairs.

The peculiar Cajun was new and Logan wasn't pleased that he was wandering around the mansion late at night. There were secrets the man didn't know and until Chuck gave the go ahead, they were going to stay secret.

The Cajun was in the rec room as Logan slunk to the doorway. Tall and strange looking - especially those eyes, which were usually hidden under dark shades - Remy wasn't someone Logan really wanted around the mansion. Like a tomcat, he was sniffing around the women - even flirting with Rogue and suddenly Bobby looked a whole lot more promising in his eyes.

Logan could see Chuck's whiskey bottle propped against Remy's hip and still smell the sweat of fear under the smoke and alcohol.

"Bon'notte." Remy mumbled without turning around from the French widows. "M. Wolf."

"What 're you up for?"

***********  
Remy took a swig of whiskey but the sight of his own reflection in the French windows - pale and distorted by the old glass - made him shudder and turn away. He could still feel Etienne breathing on his neck - demanding whiskey and coffee, prayers and tobacco. The traces of someone else's nightmare lingered too; pain like he'd never known, rage like fire, champagne glasses and blood. Didn't make sense to him and Remy was determined to drink the strangeness away.

Logan wasn't the one he'd like to meet on a dark night. Not here, not anywhere. At least, shirtless and barefoot, he didn't look quite so much like cheap muscle. The man was huge - short yes, but enormous in the chest and shoulders. Remy's mouth twitched as his attention was caught by Logan's hair. It looked like the man had recently stuck his finger in a light socket, his hair had a left angled spike that looked more like a strange rock formation than hair.

"Ain't got to have a reason t'be up, Cajun." Logan growled as he stalked into the room, eyes narrow with suspicion or weariness.

When he came closer, Remy could taste the fading edge of fear and match it to his unwelcome nightmares. One brow tipped sardonically to hide the sympathy he didn't want to feel, he offered Logan the bottle in his hand. Looked like he wasn't the only one with bad debts still hanging over his head.

"Some nights not for sleeping, eh?"

Logan stilled.

Remy remained as he was, bottle out in offer, smirk firmly in place. The man was sniffing at him like a dog and Remy shivered slightly. Finally, Logan took the bottle and a long swig - Remy's attention was drawn to the bob of his adam's apple as he drank - before handing it back. Remy drank, tasting the sourness of nightmare mixed with whiskey.

"Marie's too young fer you. Leave her alone." Logan said.

It took Remy a moment to connect Marie with the girl Rogue - Logan was the only one who called her by her name. He tilted his head slightly; he'd been doing sex by the time he was ten, seventeen seemed like a long time for anyone to wait. "Remy ain't doin' nothing the girl don want."

Logan's lip lifted, bearing white teeth and Remy's attention sharpened with a little surge of - something - as he felt the clear roll of possessive irritation from the other man. Logan was like whiskey, pungent, strong, unmistakable. He cleared the fragments of nightmares from Remy's head like a clean wind.

"She's a kid."

"She's a woman."

"Hurt her and I'll gut ya."

Remy held up his hands in surrender, whiskey sloshing in the bottle and reminding him to take another drink. The words and the heat were like a dance, Remy was hardly paying attention to what was said, only what was felt mattered.

"Remy not want to hurt no one and he like de same back."

Logan only growled and circled him restlessly. Remy offered him the bottle, feeling Logan's anger temporarily relax back into that constant tension that seemed to be the man's normal state. He could feel the nightmare in him still; fear feeding anger feeding pain feeding fear. Remy took another drink, wanting to do something to change that cruel cycle that was knotting Logan's huge naked shoulders and making the muscles of his belly twitch in sympathy.

He had just the thing, Remy blinked and slowly smiled.

***************  
"Y'just mind you're manners, Cajun."

Logan wasn't in any real mood to gripe with the scrawny Cajun. He could taste stress on the bottle, along with tobacco It reminded him of his own dreams and he wondered what had brought LeBeau down here.

"Not sleeping - why?"

Remy only shrugged, slow and smooth as molasses. Logan couldn't help but follow with his eyes. The stranger wasn't to his taste - until he moved and then Logan couldn't pull his eyes away. The way he smelled didn't help either - hot peppers and musk - sweet and smoky and interesting to his nose.

The Cajun looked at him for a long moment. "We all got mem'ries, cher. You don got de monopoly on long nights and bad dreams."

Logan scowled, reminded unpleasantly of his nights. He flexed his hands, feeling the shift of blades within.

"But der are things to do about mem'ries eh?"

No mistaking what the Cajun was thinking, not with the roll of his hips and the slow amble up. He offered the bottle and Logan swept it to his mouth, taking a drink while he tried to decide what to do.

"A little drink -," Remy said. "A little smoke-"

Those long fingertips trailed feather-light along his collarbone and any thinking was a lost cause. Logan hissed as the Cajun's friendly smile curled into a seductive one and he teased his way down Logan's chest.

"A little fire, cher."

His touch was so light, barely there. Just enough to set every nerve in Logan's skin alive. His nipples drew into hard knots of anticipation and when Remy caught one between thumb and finger, Logan - to his shock - heard himself whimper. Sensation rippled down his skin to settle between his legs and Logan's dick woke up with a jerk and a sudden throbbing urgency. His hips rocked forward, not needing any permission from his brain.

"And der ain't no'ting but de moment." Remy breathed, heavy lidded and Logan watched him flush with lust as the scent of him bloomed in the air. Whiskey, musk, heat -

"Shit - Cajun -!"

********  
The intensity of Logan's desire was like booze; Remy wanted to get drunk on him. Shuddering himself as Logan groaned and shuddered, Remy ran his palms over the dark, crisp hair. Hard nipples stroked across his palms and Remy shivered with pleasure, arching his back to rub his own chest against the wool of his sweater.

"No tomorrow, no yest'erday. Just de now," he breathed.

Logan was flexing under his hands, his desire tugging at the edges of Remy's mind, making it hard to remember they were standing in a living room, in a school where some brainless kid could walk in on them. He skimmed his hands down Logan's body, muscles jumping under his touch then gripped a handful of denim and swelling cock. Logan's growl was wordless, the thrust of his hips spoke plenty.

His hands were rough on Remy's hips then, pushing under his sweater, strong fingers pinched his nipples making him whine in pleasure. No kisses, just a hot mouth biting his neck, fingertips dragging roughly down his back to squeeze his ass. Remy bit at Logan's shoulder, responding to the sharp jump of pleasure in the man as he did it. He shaped the cock under his fingers, drawing out groans and gasps and nips.

Logan's hands wound hard in his hair and his intention was clear, Remy sucked a wet trail down warm, shuddering muscle and thick hair. He went to his knees, fingers already freeing Logan's cock from his jeans. Dark hair sprang forth first, then the thick root of his cock. Remy tugged and pulled until Logan's cock leapt free with a bounce that made him chuckle and glance up at Logan's face. "Dis boy don get out much eh?"

"Often enough," Logan growled, hand shifting in his hair and urging him closer. "T'know what I want so get on it, Cajun."

*************  
Damn the man for making him wait. The sly grin disappeared soon enough and Logan felt the flutter of breath then a slow, long lick along his dick. Groaning, he cupped the back of the thief's head and pushed between those lips. That would finally shut the Cajun up.

His whole body gave a great pulse of relief when Remy finally sucked him down with a mumble. He could hear his own growls thrumming in his throat as his fingers scrabbled through long hair and he stared down at the sharp-nosed profile buried in his pubic hair.

Jesus God, the Cajun gave maybe the best head he'd ever had.

Logan was already shaking, hissing through his teeth as he fought to make it last. He could feel the steady, rippling pull of Remy's throat around the tip of him and the push, push of his tongue along the base of his shaft. His hips rolled forward, balls rubbing against the man's chin and the soft sucking noises were like music. Fingertips slid along his thigh then danced over his balls, groaning, Logan pumped into his mouth, thumbs stroking over the curves of the thief's ears.

Logan could feel the heat gathering, drawing down his back in shivering waves, jerking his hips towards the warm center of the Cajun's mouth. That heat was all that mattered, wet and slippery, deep and greedy for him. Logan groaned, head falling back, his breathing loud in the dark room. The damn thief was hungry for him, he could feel it. His thrusts grew fast and awkward.

************  
There was no thinking here. Not with the tickle of pubic hair against his face, the warmth and musk that was both the same as every man he'd gone down on and uniquely different with each one. Remy relaxed and let the head of Logan's cock slide along his tongue and down into him. Swallowed and Logan gave a low, intense groan. Drew back to stroke his tongue along the small slit, tasting pungent salt. Logan hissed a guttural curse, hands cradling Remy's head.

There was no thinking here, just feeling as Logan thrust back in. Just heat as Remy used his tongue and lips and the tips of his fingers slid back behind Logan's balls. Just feeling; heat and hunger and the joyous rush of shared lust and pleasure. The thrum of his soft groans, the fingertips against his skull, cradling him as Logan's cock plowed into him over and over.

Just feeling as Remy fumbled urgently with is own pants and freed his cock, hand fisting in time to the increasing pace of Logan's hips. He groaned wetly around the slippery shaft, jaw aching from the pace and the length and thickness. The good kind of ache, building into everything else.

There was no remembering, no past, no future, just this moment, this hunger and heat and pleasure. No dreams or nightmares.  
No memories or hopes. Just this, just this. Just feeling.

Remy whined against Logan's skin as he arched up onto his toes and came with a grunt, cock jerking in Remy's mouth. The rush of it burned down Remy's throat, down his spine, along his nerves. Straight to his cock, pulsing hot in his own hand. Hand pumping, Remy dragged his mouth from Logan's softening cock, gasping hard as he squeezed his eyes shut and raced up to his own climax. Logan thrust two fingers into Remy's mouth and he bit down hard, smothering his brief scream as he came with a jolting, brightly ecstatic shudder.

Drowsy and satiated, Remy leaned back on his knees to blink up at Logan who was blinking down at him. Remy admired the set of Logan's shoulders now, not tense, not knotted, still broad and powerful but relaxed. Logan looked almost sleepy and also uncertain, a strange thing to see on his face. Remy cocked a brown and gave him a grin.

"Der some nights for sleeping, cher, and some nights for not." He winked, knowing his eyes would be clearly visible even in the darkness and flicked the tip of Logan's cock with his fingers, which made the man twitch all over and zip himself back into his jeans. "And some nights mebbe you take dat pup for a walk, eh?"

Logan fell back to the wry, light chatter with a relief Remy could taste. He leered down at Remy. "Yeah, maybe so - that pup can rise up and make you howl at t' moon."

Remy laughed and got back up, putting himself away with the crisp chirp of his zipper loud in the quiet around them. Their dance of invitation hidden in jokes and innuendo had a serious thread beneath all that; one that neither of them wanted to look at and Remy yawned, content for now.

"Could be, we all got some wild in us after all." He picked up the whisky bottle and bent to swipe up the mess on the floor with the edge of a sleeve - a smear of cum wasn't something he was leaving to the kids to wonder about. He strolled to the door with only a brief pause and slightly uncomfortable shrug at Logan for farewell. "And now de rest of de night - it for sleeping, cher. Bon'notte."

END 

(04172004)


End file.
